


No Going Back

by Minion99



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e18 Point of No Return, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minion99/pseuds/Minion99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas feels bad for his rage towards Dean and does what he can to make up for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Going Back

**Author's Note:**

> Point of No Return: Deleted Scene

"I rebelled for this?!" His words came out lower, more guttural than usual. Dean felt himself being slammed against the brick wall before he could process the desire to fight back. Cas' fist connect with his face twice and he felt his urge to fight back lessening. "So that you could surrender to _them_ ," Cas growled, fisting Dean's coat as he spun him around and shoved him against the other wall of the alley. Dean didn't even put up a fight when Cas hit him with two blows to the stomach. 

"Cas...please...," the words came out as a plea. Please don't let it be this way. He didn't want to fight the angel. He was just tired, couldn't anyone understand that?

There was no mercy in the angel's touch on this particular night. Once more, he slung Dean around and slammed in against the opposite brick wall. Dean winced. His face impossibly close to Dean's, the anger radiating off him in waves, the angel growled again. "I gave **everything** for you and this is what you give to me!" Dean didn't have time to formulate a response or determine if he even wanted to before Cas was on him again, pulling him off the wall and punching him in the face. Dean wasn't sure how much more he could take but he wasn't fighting back. He had no desire to. 

Castiel kicked him hard sending him flying back against the fence before hitting the ground. Thankful for the momentary reprieve, Dean found himself spitting up blood as the pain began to set in. He looked up slowly to meet Castiel's gaze and then back down to the angel's still clenched fist. "Do it!" For a moment Castiel considered it but the longer he looked at Dean, the less he found himself willing to damage him any further. "Just do it!" It was less a plea this time, more of a command. Dean wanted this--everything-- to be over. As Castiel took a step toward him, he winced and prepared himself for an onslaught of pain. Instead of throwing another punch, Castiel placed two fingers to his shoulders and sent him into a deep sleep. He wouldn't heal him this time, but it didn't mean he had to suffer at the hands of Cas' rage, the rage he wasn't even supposed to feel. Castiel lifted Dean, looping an arm around his own neck and braced him with an arm around his midsection before transporting them back to Bobby's. 

 

"Bobby, what do you mean that Adam is gone?" Sam sounded skeptical and angry. "Should I say it in Spanish?" Bobby didn't react angrily but he was growing frustrated with repeating himself. "He's gone how?" Sam laced his fingers through his hair, uncertain of what to think, "what the hell, Bobby?!" "Watch your tone, boy. He was right in front of me and he disappeared into thin air." The arguing pair didn't have time to react to the slight sound of wing flutter before they had their answer.

"Because the angels took him," Cas appeared with an unconscious Dean in tow. Their eyes went wide at the site of Dean. "What the hell happened to him," Sam questioned.

"Me," was the simple response Cas provided before ungracefully dropping Dean on a nearby cot. He expected a slew of questions from Bobby and Sam but was met with one completely unrelated. "What do you mean the angels took Adam?"

Cas thought a moment before realizing the answer to this question.

 

They opted not to act tonight while Dean was out of it, instead waiting for him to wake up so they would have a full team. To Cas' surprise, no one insisted (or threatened him, for that matter) that he heal the injuries he had caused Dean. For this, he was grateful. As much as it pained him to see Dean hurt, he was hoping something would get through to him. It wasn't just that his vessel was needed to stop the apocalypse, but Cas needed Dean to not give up on living. He needed to know he was worth saving, apocalypse or not.

"I will return," Cas muttered in the direction of Sam, hunched over the kitchen table reading and scribbling furiously. "But where are you g-" Cas was gone before he finished his question. Cas wouldn't have answered it anyway.

Castiel transported himself to a quiet, open field somewhere not far off. He needed to think about what had just happened. He was an angel of the Lord and flying into rages was not something that should have ever taken place. He needed to have a few moments of reflection about his human emotions that had begun to take over. Sure, angels got angry -- just look at his brothers, but they weren't supposed to act on it in such a way. Castiel had prided himself on being different from his brothers in that respect, given that he would only become violent when necessary to keep someone safe. Tonight, however, was something he'd never experienced. He felt more than angry, he felt sad. 

Sam and Bobby stayed up quietly working in the study for hours. It was unlikely they would sleep tonight. Dean remained motionless on the cot in the corner. Nobody blinked an eye when Cas reappeared in the middle of the room. "Has he awoken?" his eyes flickered to Dean and then at Sam and Bobby expectantly. "No, you mojo'ed him pretty hard, I imagine," Bobby responded without looking up. 

"I'll take him to the basement," Cas offered. Sam nodded his approval as he picked up another book and flipped it open. The angel stooped to lift Dean's limp body off the cot, draping his arm around his neck once again. It took little effort to stand him up, even dead weight but for Dean's safety he opted to not use the stairs. 

They landed just outside the panic room, where Cas slid open the lock and heaved the door open. He threw a side glance at Dean before entering. He didn't want Dean to wake up just yet. As angry as he had been, it had subsided only slightly and he didn't want to have to repeat his earlier performance. 

Once inside, he took greater care to lay Dean out on the bed, minding where his bruises and sprains would be. He pushed Dean onto his back, gently, situating his legs and arms so he could sleep comfortably. Cas sat on the edge of the bed, watching Dean's chest rise and fall for several moments. 

His hands fidgeted momentarily as he debated healing him so he wouldn't have to wake up with cuts and bruises and feeling awful. He sighed deeply, unsure of what to do. After a few moments, he rested his hand on Dean's abdomen and healed just the internal bleeding and the damage he'd caused his kidneys. He didn't want him to be so injured he couldn't function, but he did want him to remember the day's events when he came to. 

His hand stayed splayed against the cotton of Dean's shirt longer than necessary. He paused a moment before slipping his hand around to Dean's back and lifting him to a sitting position. He propped Dean against his shoulder so he could use both hands to slip Dean's jacket down over his shoulders. He pulled the canvas material off and dropped it off to the side on the bed. 

Cas knew he should have let go then and there; he should have left his human charges and let them do whatever they wished with their own free will but he knew he couldn't. His interactions with Dean had become less and less about what he was supposed to do as an angel and more about what he wanted, how he _felt_. He knew this wasn't going to end well. It never ends well when angels fall. 

Instead of letting go, he brought his arms around Dean's limp body as it rested against him and stayed like that for awhile. If he had a heart, he imagined it would be breaking for Dean. If he were human, he imagined that this is what it would feel like to care deeply for someone. He held on to Dean purely for himself, relishing in the warmth of his skin, his scent and the way it felt like he'd been meant to take care of him. 

Eventually, he laid Dean back out on the bed, slipping his shoes off and hanging his jacket on a nearby chair. He rose to walk out and paused at the door before turning back around to face Dean. He strode over to the desk, lifted the item he was after and crouched down beside Dean's face. "I'm sorry, Dean," he offered simply as he slipped the handcuff around Dean's wrist and fastened it to the bed.


End file.
